


Nostalgia

by Neoromantic_mess



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Some Plot, ancom has they/them pronouns, listen this is just commie being a sad and lonely boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26223874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neoromantic_mess/pseuds/Neoromantic_mess
Summary: Commie remembers the time when he was still with the extremists.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

> It's almost 1am im so sorry if this is not good at all :/
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this tho, hope you like it as well

“Commie”, a distant yet familiar voice called. The communist was half asleep on the couch, with a book resting on his chest. He was about to open his eyes, when another voice called in “Tankie!... You fell asleep again.”. ‘It’s AnCom’, he thought, ‘It can only be them’. Commie finally opened his eyes and saw the two anarchists in front of him. AnCap stepped back as soon as Commie woke up, contrasting with AnCom, who chose to approach the communist in their gentle yet messy way. “You fell asleep reading theory” they continued. “Sorry” Commie replied with a yawn “I didn’t sleep much last night.”. AnCom reached their hand to Commie to help him get up from the couch, which he refused. “You don’t have to, anarkiddy, I can do this”. 

He then proceeded to shakingly stand up from the brief nap he took. Why did he felt so weak? Was he still sleepy or was it something else?... No, it can’t be, he hadn’t been drinking much those days. The bottles of vodka AnCap bought for the week weren’t finished, and he was sure there were plenty of them left. 

“I’m hungry,” he said briefly. “Typical for a communist…” AnCap’s voice pierced through the living room. An energetic grin followed the comment. Commie really couldn’t handle AnCap and his jokes; he was about to leave when AnCom’s hand grabbed his wrist, and with a tiny smile, whose joy reflected in their green eyes, they muttered “Just ignore him, Tankie.”. “Sorry, Commie, I didn’t mean to make you angry, it was just a joke.” the capitalist laughed. “No, it’s okay, I just want to go to the kitchen, AnCom…”.

AnCom let go of the communist’s hand, and whispered an ashamed ‘sorry’. Commie smiled briefly to show his acceptance of the apology and left. The kitchen was close to the living room, but right now it just seemed so far away... Every step he took felt like it was getting him nowhere. For a moment, he wondered if he had taken any of AnCom’s drugs by mistake, or if the anarchists had drugged him as a joke or something. They are capable of that sort of thing, he thought, with a ray of affection imbuing his heart. He barely noticed he was already near the kitchen door, which was closed. He opened it slowly, and saw Nazi sitting at the table with his phone in front of him. 

“What are you doing here?” Commie asked with certain indifference. “Nothing special; I was just having a snack. I also made the shopping list for tomorrow.”, the rightist replied without taking his eyes from the phone’s screen. He then pointed at the fridge, where a yellow paper written with a blue pen stood. “We’re already missing out on eggs and flour?” Commie questioned with surprise in his voice. “I thought we had bought them some days ago.” Nazi looked at his authoritarian counterpart and with the same surprised tone replied “Why, you don’t remember?! AnCom used them to bake that cake yesterday. And AnCap always uses them to cook pancakes all the time as well, it’s no wonder we’re running out already” “Oh, right…”. 

He opened the fridge and saw the bottles of vodka full and ready to open. “I really haven’t been drinking much” he murmured to himself. He resisted the temptation to drink them and instead picked up the bottle of orange juice. He then took two slices of bread and spread butter in them, and left them in the toaster for a brief time. Nazi was silently watching him, which wasn’t odd at all, the man had little to say and always carried such a serious and mysterious expression, it was a waste of time trying to decipher what he was thinking. 

When the two slices of bread jumped from the toaster, Commie took them and sat at the table in a chair right in front of Nazi. “Do you want some?” “No, I’m full, Commie, thanks anyway.”. A long silence filled the kitchen, only the clock and its certain and regular rhythm were to be heard. 

“The anti-centrist has been quiet lately. No missions, no requests…” Nazi pointed out thoughtfully and with an unusual look of concern. “Well, isn’t that good?” Commie answered, noticing the rightist’s troubled blue eyes meet his. “I don’t know. It has been strangely peaceful around here. I’m afraid such a state of things won’t last long.” “Why do you think that?” “In life, there is no such thing as permanent happiness…”. Nazi stood up and walked towards the door. “You’re leaving?” Commie asked while taking the last bite of his toast. “No, I’ll just see what those two are up to. I don’t trust anarchists to be alone for long…” Commie let go a short laugh. “Fair enough. Wait for me, I’ll go with you.”.

The two anarchists were both seated on the couch, close to each other, watching whatever was on TV. “AnCap! Come on, I’m begging you!” AnCom pleaded. “I already told you: I will not change the channel!” “But I don’t wanna watch _Shark Tank_ anymore, ugh, you’re so lame!” AnCom looked behind their shoulder and saw the two authoritarians. “Oh, Commie, you’re back, thank Kropotkin!”. AnCap turned around and added “And of course, Nazi. What do you two want?” “Nothing, we just came to check if you were okay.” Nazi replied instantly. “But as I can see, everything is fine around here…” “No, it’s not! Commie, please don’t leave me with this capitalist idiot, I can’t handle watching one more episode of _Shark Tank_!..” 

AnCap laughed at the visible annoyance of his anarchist counterpart and turned off the TV. “Well, since you’re both here, we might as well do something.”. Nazi looked attentively at Commie to see his reaction to AnCap’s proposal. Indifference. “Sure, what do you wanna do, Cappie?” the rightist asked. “Oh, can I choose?!” The answer to the question was silence. “Great! You’ll see…” 

AnCap left the room and ran upstairs to get something in his room. “I swear to Marx, if it’s _Monopoly_ again, I’ll lose it” Commie grunted between his teeth. Just as he finished speaking, AnCap arrived at the living room with UNO cards. 

“Oh no, it’s way worse than _Monopoly_ , Commie…” AnCom screamed “It’s UNO! What have you done, AnCap, you’ll destroy this team!” “Truly tragic…” Nazi remarked ironically. “Oh shut it, both of you, and just play along!”. Soon, the four of them were sitted on the big circular table in the center of the room, with the cards distributed amongst them. “Rock, paper, scissors to see who starts?” AnCom suggested. “Good idea!” AnCap backed up. 

AnCom managed to win the first round of the game, whilst AnCap beat both the authoritarians by choosing scissors in the second round. “So, AnCom comes first, then me, now it’s between you two”. _Rock, paper, scissors_ . Nazi pulled rock while Commie sticked with scissors. “Guess you’re the last one, Commie” the rightist concluded. “Yeah, the last one…” Commie repeated mechanically. Suddenly, loud chimes echoed through the whole room. Muffled by the loud sound, Commie could only hear Nazi complaining to AnCap about how stupid of an idea it was to buy that old clock. Commie started counting the bell’s strikes: _1, 2, 3, 4_. Suddenly everything seemed blurry, and soon he realized there was nothing but darkness around him.

.

.

The communist woke up startled. His back and his neck hurted immensely, it was hard to even move - ‘sleeping with your head resting on a table isn’t the most comfortable position’ he reckoned. He looked at the big circular table he was sitting in: an empty bottle of vodka stood right in front of him. Consumed by an agonizing pain that descended from his head to his neck, the authoritarian leftist stood up and shakingly walked to the kitchen. The clock standing on the hallway marked 4:05 am. Once he arrived at the kitchen, he took two more bottles of vodka and went back to the living room. As he drank the first sip, a voice in his head kept repeating the same words and the same sentence he heard in that dream: “In life there is no such thing as permanent happiness...”.


End file.
